


The Arrangement

by Ameliapoand



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Best Friends, Casual Sex, Dominance, F/M, Foreplay, Friends With Benefits, Heavy Angst, Hook-Up, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Playful Sex, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 00:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameliapoand/pseuds/Ameliapoand
Summary: After leaving Hawke, Fenris seeks out companionship one cold and lonely night. Lucky for him, Isabela had always been waiting.





	The Arrangement

For a single moment, Fenris’ hand hesitated in the air, suspended by a puppet string—though since Danarius, he’d felt the complete opposite of a puppet, as if he’d been abandoned and in a perpetual free-fall with no inclination about what he was supposed to do with himself.

But, no. He viciously buried the thought.

His callous knuckles rapped on the door, knocking against the aged wood in a manner that could be described as ambivalent. In reality, he felt anything but; his heart had been racing for minutes, and he could feel the toxic combination of what was both excitement and dread filling him from the bottom up, but pausing halfway within his body just to screw with him.

“Come in,” came a voice from beyond the door.

Fenris knew he should have just walked in, but a lifetime of forced courtesies had left its mark on him, and even now, with the knowledge of what he was about to do, he still could not bring himself to relinquish all memory of that. He opened the door and strode through its threshold, not bothering to turn his body as he shut it closed behind him. His greatsword clinked against the wood with a slight scraping sound.

“Back again?” asked Isabela, a knowing smirk on her mouth. She was perched on the end of her bed—which wasn’t so much her bed as it was the room she frequently stayed in—and clasped both of her daggers in her hand. A small whetstone rested beside her thigh, and Fenris’ gaze wandered to it, examining this detail without a sliver of interest.

“You know what they say about habits,” he replied, his voice a disinterested grumble. Fenris locked his eyes onto hers and Isabela smiled to herself, her face a beacon of dark mirth—all sharpened angles.

“Skipping breakfast is a habit, Fenris.” She winked at him, but the gesture was not at all flirtatious. “This is something else. Something far more… primal.” 

Fenris inhaled deeply through his nose. “Perhaps,” he said, and he felt the charge in the atmosphere between them. “But, it changes nothing. This is—“

“A mistake? An oversight? A betrayal to our dear, beloved—“

“I was _going_ to say that this is a mere arrangement, Isabela. Nothing more.”

Isabela unexpectedly nodded, all traces of mockery evaporating from her face. She looked suddenly earnest, her dark, golden eyes wide with sincerity. “I agree. And we must never let Hawke find out about this.”

Fenris wanted to scream as Isabela said her name.

_Hawke._

He immediately closed his eyes to the pity he felt oozing from Isabela’s side of the room. It felt like tar—thick and sticky, an impenetrable coating over his body that he could not scratch off with nails or blade. Fenris regretted Isabela seeing how Hawke’s name affected him so easily, how all it took was the mention of her person to cut him open for anyone to see inside his lyrium-branded flesh. He wasn’t weak, but he wasn’t strong either. A stronger man wouldn’t have even put himself in this situation to begin with, but Fenris never once claimed to be the man Hawke needed. 

After all, that was why he’d left her. 

His eyes flashed open when he heard movement, and Fenris watched as Isabela maneuvered around the room with a grace only rogues could express. In fluid motions, she’d tidied up the bed previously laden with blades and sharpening stones; she sheathed her daggers—elegant, deadly, and inscribed with small runestones—in their scabbards before gently placing them on a table near the mattress. Once finished, she turned towards Fenris, brown hands lazily fisted on her hips. Fenris’ eyes instantly dropped to the sensual curves, and he felt his cock stir inside his trousers.

“Well,” Isabela said, a trademark grin illuminating her face. “Where shall we begin?”

At once, Fenris unbuckled the giant sword from his back, letting it slink to the ground, rather unceremoniously. His bare toes pressed against the floor’s worn wood, carrying him casually to where Isabela stood. Her brown skin glowed in the room’s lowlight—provided by a single candle—and her chin piercing shone with gusto. The small light show only magnified the sheer intensity of Isabela’s gaze, highlighting her irises in equal measure. Gold, brown, green—a portfolio of artistry, wrapping itself around Fenris and drawing him into the space Isabela occupied. Separated by mere inches, the two companions studied each other, prolonging the inevitable moment of their joining. It was agonizing, and Fenris could feel himself growing hard just by being captured in the depths of Isabela’s presence. Too many nights he had lain alone, aching for Hawke’s warm body to hold, _burning_ for someone, anyone’s touch upon his lonely skin.

“Isabela,” Fenris breathed, his emerald gaze sweeping over the gentle rises and dips of her face. “You are so beautiful.” Slowly, he brought a hand to her cheek and softly tucked stray locks of brown hair behind her ear. 

There was never any dispute over the Rivaini’s superior beauty. If it wasn’t the plump arc of her mouth, then it was the arsenal of black lashes scattered behind her eyelids, or even, the brownness of her skin that made her lovely. Of course, most of the things she said were vulgar enough to dampen anyone’s inherent beauty if only for a moment, but there was no point in any denial of the fact: she was physically superior in every way.

Well, besides…

Isabela raised an eyebrow at Fenris and cocked her head to the side as if to hear him better. “Oh, Fenris,” she crooned, “How touching you are.” 

Still regarding him speculatively, she circled his wrist with one hand and dragged it downward, slowly, below her jaw, sliding his hand beneath her collar bone until his fingers were trailing over her breast. Fenris’ eyes darkened under Isabela’s scrutiny, and she held his hand on her, lacing her fingers over her own and squeezing them so both of their palms were suddenly filled with firm flesh.

Fenris felt his arousal detonate like a firebomb—a lightning flash of blood rushing to his cock that had it straining against his trousers in seconds. A tidal wave of adrenaline drowned his organs, tightening him from the inside out, constricting him in such a tactile manner that he thought he could feel his own pupils dilate.

“Your tunic is in the way,” Fenris said, a small smile perforating his lips.

Isabela regarded him with interest, both of her eyebrows now a curved frame upon her forehead. She released his hand and let it drop from her chest before bringing both of hers to the cloth bunched up on her shoulders.

Fenris stopped her with a quick shake of his head. “No. Let me.”

“Be my guest,” Isabela said, a wicked grin erupting across her features. “My, my, my… I don’t recall you being this demanding last time we did this.”

A humorless chuckle ripped itself from Fenris’ throat as he grasped ahold of her tunic and loosened the strings on its corset before yanking it above her head. He discarded it on the ground beside them and turned back to Isabela, her full, substantial bosom completely exposed to the air.

“Last time, I’d just left Hawke and was looking for a quick fuck to distract me from the pain. Tonight, however…”

He placed a hand on her belly, taut with muscle, and dragged it upwards until it encompassed a single mound of soft, supple flesh.

“I want to take my time with you.”

He squeezed her again, brushing his thumb over her immaculate nipple, deliberately hardening it.

Isabela sighed contentedly. “And I with you, dear friend. But, I have to tell you, no man in this pathetic excuse for a town has ever been able to dominate me, and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.” Her eyes glinted wickedly as she said this.

Domination. Had he dominated Hawke? No, that was never a variable in their lovemaking. He and Hawke had been equal partners, tearing at each other with a desperation matched only by the other, and there had been no talk or concept or attempt of a power struggle within the confines of their intimacy.

But, this was not Hawke.

And this was not intimacy.

In one swift movement, Fenris removed his hand from her breast and brought it to the blue hair wrap Isabela always favored to wear, smoothly jerking it off her head so that the result was a cascading effect of brown hair, flowing like chocolate all around her neck and ears, brushing by her cheeks in a manner that almost seemed endearing.

“Why?” Fenris then asked, fisting a hand at the back of her head. He gently tugged, tilting her face towards the ceiling, and his hungry mouth was suddenly on her neck, ravishing it with tongue and teeth. 

“Is that your desire? To be… _dominated?”_ His cock twitched at the thought of her whimpering his name, begging for his body to enter hers, rutting her into the headboard until she could not help but scream. He had never made anyone scream before, but to be fair, it had never been a goal of his. What an experience that would be, to have this particular woman at his complete, sexual mercy.  
Isabela laughed, a low, suggestive sound that vibrated against Fenris as he worked over her jawline.

“I guess I’m not opposed to it, but then again, I wouldn’t count on it happening.”

The challenge was clear, and Fenris released her hair to anchor a hand around the back of her neck and pull her to him. Their cheeks collided lightly as both of their mouths sought purchase with one another, messily, without any shred of care or technique, and Isabela hummed, a warm, content sound that erupted goosebumps across the tops of Fenris’ arms. Isabela was everywhere—in his mouth, teasing him with her tongue, in his hair, which she’d buried a hand in, gently tugging at the snowy mane… in between his legs, she slowly brought her fingers slithering down his navel—the muscles there taut with excitement—until her palm found the rise of his erection. She grasped onto the phallic protrusion straining against his trousers and circled the top of the head with her thumb, making sure to press down on the area exactly beneath the back of the top.

Fenris moaned unwillingly into Isabela’s mouth, and wordlessly he knew… he knew that this was now a game, a sexual competition, where she would tally the scores of the pleasure inflicted on each body and the winner was the one who made the other writhe with blissful agony, completely undone, just a blithering mass of limbs and flesh that demanded more until there was nothing left of them to spend. Determined to win, Fenris swiftly hooked his long fingers in the band of Isabela’s small clothes and ripped them down her legs, following them until he was kneeling on the floor of the Hanged Man’s room and so he was at level with the endless span of her brown, elegant legs. 

These were legs that had seen battle; dozens of small scars, made by blades no doubt, zig-zagged across the planes of her skin, and Fenris dotted the area just above her knees with alternating, butterfly kisses so light that he was sure they were more aggravating than pleasurable. He wanted her sopping wet by the time he reached her, and so he moved his lips accordingly, so superficial in their meeting with her flesh that it was as if he wasn’t really touching her at all. Isabela tangled both hands in the scattered, colorless mess that was his hair, and it tickled Fenris’ ears as he slowly brought his kisses at an incline, but also taking his time to pepper the inside of her thighs with the brush of his lips. Eventually, he bit down, hard, and Isabela jumped, a quiet, yelping noise perforating the air above Fenris.

They were tied for now, but Fenris was enjoying himself too much to care all that much.

“Leaving your mark on me, are you?” Isabela chuckled, winding her hands in the wilderness of his fringe. “That’s a dangerous game, elf boy. What ever would Hawke say?”

But Fenris could hear the increase of her breath shredding her voice into low, paper ghosts that was like cannon fire to the rest of the space around them. She was aroused, the sweet, clover smell of it creating a haze where Fenris’ face was, the scent of her want for him sending electricity down his body until it pooled in his cock, jolting it so powerfully that he imagined it was Isabela’s perfect mouth wrapped around him instead. It was amazing how easily he could get off just by servicing her, and Fenris knew that this was just a preview of what was to come later on. 

“Hawke will assume that one of your _many_ conquests got a bit too carried away,” he murmured, eyes glazing over with need.

The scent of her—it sent him absolutely wild—and Fenris, abandoning all instinct to tease any further, clasped his hands around Isabela’s ankles and forced her feet wider apart, to which Isabela chuckled.

“A very likely prospect indeed.”

“Mmm, yes, I’d say so.”

She was so close to him now. The proximity was dizzying. Fenris had never had anyone like Isabela before, all grace and strength, and he couldn’t help but take himself into his own hand—his cock like stone as he yanked it out of his trousers. The flesh on Isabela’s thighs were hot, rushing with blood, and Fenris finally closed the distance between mouth and skin by pressing a sweet kiss to the outermost layer of her lips.

Isabela stopped breathing, and the sound was audible.

Fenris let himself explore all her with his tongue, darting it into her, pressing it up against the swollen bud at the top of her neatly-trimmed mound. He could feel Isabela shudder as he tasted her, which only encouraged him further. Admittedly, he hadn’t had a lot of experiencing fucking a woman with his only his mouth before, but he guessed that the real pleasure came in all of the careful attention of his tongue lapping at her, its strokes growing more confident as the hands in his hair became tight and demanding. Isabela pushed herself deeper into Fenris’ face, a quiet moan resonating in the sacred space between them, and it was this sound of carnal pleasure that had Fenris frantically pumping his own cock. He imagined it inside her, pounding into her wet, warm tightness, and his own face became flush with blood as he was compelled to let himself go for fear of releasing before it had even begun.

“Fuck,” Isabela whispered, grinding herself onto Fenris’ eager mouth.

Idly, he wondered if she’d be able to orgasm while standing, or if she would collapse, overtaken by the force of such a phenomena. 

Steadying a hand on one of her perfectly round ass cheeks, Fenris swiftly brought the other towards Isabela as he shifted his attention to the pink, engorged bud he knew was critical to female pleasure. He placed light kisses there while thrusting a finger inside Isabela, nearly coming from the wet heat of her inner walls. Isabela bucked at the new sensation, her breath hitching in her throat, and Fenris recalled what she had told him their last encounter: curl upwards.

Which is exactly what he did.

Fenris’ knees should have really started to feel bruised by now, kneeling for so long on the inn’s musty floor, but for all Fenris knew, the floor didn’t exist and never had. All he knew and felt was the rough texture of Isabela’s front wall as he stroked her, and the sweet taste of her only inches away as his mouth doted upon her bud in light, teasing circles. To expedite things, Fenris promptly inserted another figure beside the one, using both digits to curl into her heat, and Isabela voiced her approval of this with a considerable yelp. Meanwhile, Fenris’ cock lay flat against his belly and he dared not touch it any further lest her taste alone overpowered him.

“Yes, just like that,” Isabela breathed, her gips gyrating more aggressively onto the elf. “Harder with your… _oh, fuck.”_

Fenris curled his fingers more rapidly, pushing them into her with force he knew would make her come. She was already constricting around him, the muscles of her heat squeezing each digit closer together, and so Fenris patiently waited for Isabela, his mouth still working her bud in the fashions he knew she liked: long, light, and lazy.

Fenris held back a groan as Isabela came, a crashing of pleasure that attacked her knees first, wobbling them, before he felt her tightness start its contractions around his fingers as if to separate them from the rest of his hand. Her voice was a low, lamentation of ecstasy that her throat could not bear to hold, and she cried out, nails raking against Fenris’ scalp, her entire body trembling with the pleasure he had given to her through only the use of his mouth.

Several moments passed by in bliss as Fenris eventually detached his face from between her legs, and he sat on his heels, gazing up at Isabela with unquestionable smugness. From this angle, her breasts looked positively enormous, and he ached to touch them once more and to manipulate the soft flesh between his palms.

Isabela, once she caught her breath, looked down at Fenris kneeling before her and cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Well, aren’t we pleased with ourselves.”

Yes. Yes we were.

Fenris nodded, a small chuckle spilling out of him. “There is a satisfaction in watching a beautiful woman during the throes of an orgasm, yes.”

“What is it with you and the word ‘beautiful’?” Isabela asked, reaching down for Fenris’ arms and drawing him to his feet.

“Perhaps you would prefer another word?”

Isabela grinned wickedly, her visage illuminating tenfold as she unbuckled Fenris’ armor and swiftly yanked it off of him. 

“Sure I would. Sexy. Incredible. Voluptuous. Iniviting. _Hot.”_ At this word, her eyes raked down Fenris’ naked torso, slowing at each brand of lyrium etched onto his olive skin like thousands of miniature lamps implanted beneath his skin. Even now, if she looked hard enough, the unmistakable glow of the magic was visible on him.

Her eyes, momentarily, ceased in their mirth and instead, widened. “Do they hurt?” She placed a tentative hand on his sternum, and Fenris stiffened at her touch.

“Sometimes.”

Isabela let her hand glide down Fenris’ belly, towards his cock that still stuck straight into the air. She snapped the tight waistband of his trousers, wordlessly demanding them to be off. “Do they hurt right now?” she asked while Fenris removed his pants. She pulled down her small clothes immediately following the elf.

He shook his head.

Was he embarrassed by the markings?

The rogue took Fenris’ cock in her hand, eliciting a gasp from the hungry elf. He’d hastily pushed himself deeper into her palm before catching himself, and Isabela laughed, the sound a high, feminine song that seemed to combat the dankness of the room they were in.

“Good. Let’s go make you forget the magic is even there, hm?” Isabela pedaled backwards, leading Fenris cock-first onto the bed, where she comfortably settled herself upon the mattress. 

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” she announced, a victorious smile playing at her lips. At her invitation, Fenris’ eyes widened, and hesitantly, he climbed atop of Isabela’s curvy frame, positioning himself so that he sat straddled, hovering above her ample bosom, with the tip of his cock angled towards her mouth. He gazed down at her, clearly unsuspecting—nearly vibrating with anticipation.

“Have you ever been in this position before?” 

Fenris swallowed thickly. “No… I can’t say that I have.”

“Oh! You’ll love it.”

Isabela had barely finished speaking when she swooped forward, claiming Fenris’ aching cock for her own. In one, slick movement, she slid him deep into her throat, and Fenris nearly shouted at the sensation of her sucking him off.

“Maker,” he whispered, holding still as she swirled her tongue over his head. He involuntarily bucked, desperate for more, and Isabela steeled a hand on the back of his ass, pulling him toward her to show that it was okay to move. Fenris had been given oral sex before, but never had he fucked a mouth. And never a mouth so skilled that it was like every second she worked on him was a likely chance that he would blow.

Encouraged by the hand on his ass, Fenris buried a hand in the crown of Isabela’s long, dark hair, knotting his fingers in it before thrusting forward and pushing her head further onto him. She was eager, bobbing herself up and down his length, tensing her lips as to create a tight seal that squeezed Fenris, causing shooting arrows of pleasure to travel deep into his groin. His every nerve was on fire, and Fenris moaned, gutturally reciting Isabela’s name as he fucked his way to orgasm, his slim hips crashing powerfully against her cheeks and chin. 

Her mouth was the most exquisite mouth in all of Thedas, he thought, and his release came when she relaxed her throat, easily taking all of him into her. The elf shuddered and threw back his head in a sheer euphoria, with Isabela hungrily sucking him dry, ripping his cock and his balls apart as they contracted, spewing seed deep into Isabela’s mouth. A hand still gripped onto her Rivaini, thick hair, but instead of letting go, Fenris leaned down and crushed his lips to hers, nearly groaning from the deep satisfaction blooming inside of him. He could feel the effects of his orgasm flowing through his body, like each organ was singing to each other—a perfect hum of harmony.

“Now,” murmured Isabela in between their kisses, “If I recall correctly, you’re one of the rare ones, aren’t you? The ones who don’t need to rest right after you’ve…” And without looking, she reached down, fumbling her fingers on Fenris’ belly until she found it: the shaft of his cock, still hard and still ready for her. She giggled happily to herself. “Oh, good. Then we can continue.”

Fenris pulled away from the seductress, eyeing her with long expression that cracked only when she gave him a light squeeze. He hissed under his breath, and renewed hunger intensified his eyes, making them caverns of deep emerald that were amplified by the light pulsing of his lyrium-burned skin.

“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice dark and wanting. This was the moment he’d been waiting since the moment he stepped foot in this room. Fenris actually didn’t bother to wait for Isabela to even register the words before he scooted off her and grabbed ahold of her waist. Perhaps the elf, slight in his build, didn’t look capable, but his warrior’s strength was undoubtable as Fenris maneuvered Isabela onto her stomach so quickly that she could only squeal with surprise. Her laughter pervaded the air once more as he gripped her ass with one hand ands readied his cock with the other. He was still throbbing.

“Oh, Fenris, how full of surprises you are! Have it your way then.”

She thrusted herself onto him, ambushing Fenris in every way, and the forceful sound of her ass hitting his pelvis shocked the elf, though not as much as the searing pleasure that followed shortly afterwards.

“Fuck,” Fenris growled. If he’d not just come, perhaps him entering her alone would have been sufficient to bring on an orgasm. 

He wasn’t aware that he had shut his eyes, but when he opened them, Isabela had stretched herself to throw a triumphant grin at the shell-shocked elf, with both of her eyebrows lifted high on her forehead.

“Well? Get on with it,” she said, smirking all the while. Fenris couldn’t help but laugh at her mischievousness. 

Get on with it, he would.

Maker, it was like his cock had turned to stone, he was so excited. Isabela was tight and hot as he began sliding in and out of her, and no wonder all of the men in Kirkwall lined up for this, for her. She was the perfect consistency, the perfect structure, and as Fenris glided his hands over the curve of her back, he saw goosebumps erupting wherever he touched the scar-scratched flesh. If Fenris had never made love with Hawke, he would have sworn that his cock was meant for the warm wetness that was Isabela, that it was meant to push deep inside of her, bumping against all of the textures and ridges her body offered him.

Fenris slowed himself, feeling another release building up tight inside his body. It would not do to end things to hastily, even if his body would allow him to keep fucking. Fenris didn’t know why he was like that—ever since puberty, when visions of filling women to the hilt of his cock began to persist on an almost _hourly_ basis, he’d realized that he was never truly satisfied coming once, no matter how hard his hand had pumped himself or how intense the waves of pleasure crashing over him were. He’d always needed more, perhaps than everyone else, but time—and Danarius—hadn’t ever allowed him to explore the demands of his body. Isabela, however…

“Admit it,” she crooned seductively, and Fenris fell out of his thoughts, bringing himself back to the perfect human being in front of him. “You’ve wanted to do this ever since you first laid eyes on me.”

Her voice was sultry, dripping with sex, and Fenris slapped her ass loudly, his palm flat against the firm, rounded muscle. Isabela hummed with delight.

It was true that their first, sexual encounter wasn’t anything like this one. Heartbroken by Hawke, Fenris had collapsed into the despair that was being with another woman, and even as he’d fucked Isabela then, he’d been thinking of Hawke every second he spent with her. That had been some time ago, though, and Fenris was more practiced at drowning the thought of Hawke out of his head, which made everything easier by default.

Fenris leaned forward, pressing his chest against Isabela’s brown, muscled back, and reached forward, grasping ahold of her swinging breasts with each palm and kneading them slowly as his hips gyrated deeper into Isabela’s.

“Perhaps. But also do not pretend that you haven’t thought of me either, that you haven’t touched yourself to the thought of me writhing on top of you until you’ve come a hundred times,” he said, his voice a mere whisper. “Or am I wrong?”

Isabela circled herself around Fenris, grinding against his pelvic bone and eliciting a soft moan from the contours of his silky mouth. “You do have an incredible cock,” was all she said in reply. The sexual attraction between them all these years hadn’t exactly been a secret, anyhow, and they both knew it.

Fenris shifted then and pushed Isabela down onto the mattress so that her belly lay flat against the top comforter of the bed. Placing her legs closer together, Fenris withdrew himself onto to reinter the rogue, this position squeezing him tenfold more. Isabela cursed as Fenris sat straight on her ass and began to ride her, his cock writhing against her upper wall with slow, deliberate jabs.

“Move from this angle and I’ll kill you,” Isabela threatened, her voice slightly undone by Fenris’ thrusting. Fenris groaned low and long, his hair falling over his face as his neck slackened from the sensation of her tightening around him. He scratched his nails over Isabela’s flesh, and she began pushing herself onto him more swiftly and with more force. The sight of her moving ass caused Fenris to twitch inside her, and he felt her body respond in kind, with small contractions of its own that warned of another orgasm.

“Fuck, yes,” Fenris grunted, his entire being flushed with red-hot bliss. He quickened his pace, thrusting into Isabela faster and faster, feeling her wetness create a slick seal around him that stole his breath and shut his eyes. Isabela started to make noises that voiced her satisfaction which only pushed Fenris further onto the brink of his own end, pummeling him with the need to release himself inside her heat.

Their own pleasures swirled together into one, immense pool of agony, and as Isabela stiffened, the muscles in her back protruding on her skin, Fenris slammed into her with insistence that she come as hard as he was, his cries transforming into high-pitched keening as everything exploded once more. His cock spasmed around her walls, and more wetness saturated both of their slickened bodies as he gyrated himself against her, grinding every part of his groin deeper into the crevice of her heat and ass.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Isabela gasped, her breathing an excited pattern of raggedness as she wriggled out from underneath Fenris, who slid off her with boneless limbs. Her eyes shone with ferocity, and she practically dragged Fenris towards her, shoving him down onto her pillow and comforter with a deliberateness that only further excited the elf. Tired as he may have been, one glance at Isabela’s taut, sweat-glistened body had his cock hard again within seconds, and he did not protest as his snowy hair scattered around the pillow that now smelled of the pirate queen, all spice and musk.

“Do with me what you will,” Fenris panted, a lazy grin stretching itself across his face. “I know how you like to dominate.” He opened his arms, demonstrating his willingness, and Isabela climbed atop Fenris, whose lyrium-burned skin was now starting to glow with intention.

Isabela was nearly purring with satisfaction, though as she reached behind her and placed his stiff cock between her legs, she felt anything but satisfied. She was drenched, and drenched with the need for him, so Fenris acquiesced to her need for more, understanding as he buried himself to the hilt that he was right to come to her tonight. He doubted many of Kirkwall’s inhabitants being able to give Isabela the endless amount of pleasure he could.

What he didn’t know was which position was better—being behind the lovely rogue with her ass in all of its glory in full view, or with her riding him, expertly swiveling her hips all over so that he reached the deepest parts of her body, feeling himself slide over areas he couldn’t get to by himself.

“Maker, keep doing that,” he sighed, groaning softly at the way she’d withdraw herself to the tip of his cock only to slam back down onto him again. His arms were still spread wide, and Isabela pressed her palms in his before swooping down and plunging her tongue into the elf’s mouth, almost humming with gratification. Her breasts rubbed against the outline of his chest and her hair was a waterfall of brown cascading around both of their faces, but all that he could focus on was the tongue darting between his lips and the tightness that surrounded his cock, gripping him in the best way, her arousal making it all too easy to rut into her again and again until she shivered, extricating her lips from his and whimpering loudly.

Suddenly there was a banging on the door, and a gruff voice calling to them from the outside of it.

“Andraste’s tits, keep it down in there, will you! Some of us are trying to drin—”

The voice was cut off by Isabela, retrieving a dagger from underneath the pillow—and subsequently, Fenris’ head—and throwing it expertly in the direction of the door so that it buried itself halfway to the hilt. The impact of the blade caused the voice to yell, and both Fenris and Isabela could hear a pair of footsteps running away from their room.

“I should have known you’d have another dagger nearby,” Fenris laughed, his eyes bright with mirth.

Isabela kissed him, pushing him back down to the mattress, all the while beginning to slowly writhe on his cock once more. Fenris groaned impatiently—he was already aching for more release.

“Yes, you should have,” she quipped.

Fenris, removing his hands from her grasp and placing them on her hips, thrust his cock hard into her heat, moaning with newfound need. “Fine, I should have. Now shut up and fuck me,” he grunted, jaw dropping open with awe. Where did she learn how to move like that?

It wasn’t long before Isabela showed signs of her own ecstasy building up once more. Red blush colored her cheeks, transforming them into lovely, feminine canvases of brown and pink with a faint sheen of sweat to gloss over the edge of her flesh. She was stunning, and Fenris was overwhelmed with her beauty and of how it assaulted him, driving a strange dagger into his heart as she arched her back and began fucking his cock with her front wall, grating him in a vice that choked him.

“Yes,” Fenris growled, his breath coming in uneven gasps. “That feels so good, Maker’s breath. Oh, right there.”

Isabela acquiesced, not relenting from the position which displayed her full, firm breasts proudly into the air. Fenris massaged them with his hands, teasing each nipple with his thumb as he humped her heat with an insistence that demanded she equate. Like before, her entire body stiffened as her end came, and her mouth opened wide in a wordless exclamation, her brows tensing together to create a single line at the bridge of her nose.

“Fuck, Isabela,” Fenris moaned, his chest heaving with another finale. “Fuck!” he shouted as the familiar, searing hot sensation of his orgasm ripped through his cock, and Fenris plunged into Isabela again and again and again, groaning with each thrust, each noise shocking his body with the intensity it was bearing, though Fenris didn’t know how, and as Isabela slowed herself, grinding softly against his straining cock, he was only able to allow her to, every flux of her heat prying stray moans from his throat.

He lay there panting, catching his breath in a silence that indicated the sex was over.

“All right, are we?” he heard Isabela mock, her body a relaxed portfolio of brown. A small smile touched her lips.

 _“Fuck,”_ reiterated Fenris as he helplessly fell into a fit of laughter. “Maker, I think you’ll kill me.”

He made a soft noise as she removed herself from him only to collapse beside his trembling body, their nakedness an uninteresting variable as he reached out for her. Isabela hesitated, her eyes flashing to Fenris’ for a single moment before she huffed and allowed him to embrace her body, his arms winding around her shoulders.

“Don’t get used to this,” she said into his chest. “Usually, I just kick the poor fool out.”

Fenris yawned sleepily. “I’ll leave soon. First, just let me remember how to walk again.”


End file.
